


everyone has a special something ... to add to the eggnog

by agentx13



Category: Captain America (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Alcohol, Christmas Party, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Shenanigans, sharon carter month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentx13/pseuds/agentx13
Summary: Steve and Sharon throw a Christmas party. The eggnog recipe gets a little special something, and then a little extra something more, and then some more, and some more...Are Steve and Sharoncoolnow?
Relationships: Bobbi Morse & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop, Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20
Collections: Sharon Carter Month





	everyone has a special something ... to add to the eggnog

“Are we ready for this?” Sharon watches Steve, her face and tone serious. “This is it, Steve. We’ve been preparing for this for _weeks._ And this is our only shot.”

He surveys their apartment. “You’re putting too much pressure on this, Sharon. It’ll be fine.”

“Steve.”

“Sharon.”

“ _Steve._ You know if things start to go wrong, it’s all going to go to hell, and _fast,_ right? The people involved… If things go wrong, they’ll go _very_ wrong.”

“Sharon.”

“ _Steve._ ”

“ _Sharon._ ”

There’s a heavy knock at the door. They both turn to it.

“I hope you aren’t doing anything inappropriate in there!” Bucky yells through the door. He turns to someone else, and though his voice is muffled by the door, they can both make out the words, “Maybe we should come back later?”

“Just a sec!” Steve shouts. He looks at Sharon, who smooths her dress. “It’s not a mission, Sharon. It’s a Christmas party. Just relax. It’ll be fine.”

He goes to open the door, letting in the first of the guests.

* * *

Sharon has a type-A personality. She knows she does. She isn’t ashamed of it. It’s what makes her adept at being an agent and a support for the Avengers and a Director or Sub-Director of SHIELD. But type-A people aren’t always the most sociable. She’s leaving that to Steve, who is also type-A but more malleable, and she mostly keeps on the move, making sure there are enough snacks and finger foods and punch and other drinks. Keeping in mind the crowd they’ve invited and how much they can consume, she also has pizzas. Not particularly festive, sure, but the pizza’s lack of festive flair is offset by two large bowls of eggnog. The one at the pizza table doesn’t have any alcohol, but the other one, near the table with the alcoholic beverages, has a small bit of brandy. If people want something stronger in their eggnog, they can do it themselves.

She gets some of the eggnog with brandy, then sidles over to the drinks table to add a little extra something extra. If she’s going to face a Christmas party with the Avengers, she’s not going to do it sober.

* * *

Natasha stops beside the bowl of eggnog, set on its own table near the drinks table, as if this eggnog is especially festive. Steve and Sharon _would_ do something festive and silly, she thinks. “Okay,” she says smoothly, not sounding suspicious at all, “I’m meeting you by the eggnog. Can you explain _why?_ ”

“No reason,” Clint promises. On his other side, Kate sidles a little closer, her back to the table, her face to the rest of the room. She’s whistling, the cartoon picture of innocence.

Natasha’s eyes narrow in a way that isn’t suspicious at all.

Clint reaches behind Kate’s back to the large bottle of brandy Kate is holding there, out of sight from the rest of the room. “Cover me,” he directs Natasha.

Natasha almost argues. Almost. But then, it occurs to her. Sharon and Steve likely have five different plans to make sure everyone gets home safely. And their parties are, well. Not _boring,_ necessarily, but the social niceties involved tend to tire Natasha out. They’re both reliable people. The sort who voluntarily have khaki clothing pressed nicely in their closet. If not for their jobs, they wouldn’t be exciting at _all._ So instead of arguing, she says, “Are you sure that’s going to be enough?”

Clint and Kate look at her with varying levels of surprise and satisfaction. “This is why I like you,” Clint tells her, pouring in the entire bottle.

* * *

An hour in, and Sharon is starting to loosen up. So is everyone else, and the spiked eggnog is proving to be more popular than she’d anticipated. She tops off the bowl and gets a cup for herself. It doesn’t taste quite right. Could taste better.

Sharon isn’t a cook, though. It’s practically a running joke between her and Steve. And with eggnog, all she knows is that you’re supposed to add brandy if you want it to taste better. And it’s a little bit of brandy in a big bowl of eggnog, so it can’t be that bad, right? Besides, she and Steve have arranged for rides home for anyone who seems even the slightest bit inebriated. And now that she thinks of it, it’s a little weird to have such plain eggnog at a Christmas party, isn’t it? They already have a bowl with no alcohol whatsoever. This one should have more of a kick, right? And they hadn’t made it with _any_ kick. Shame on them. She should add at least a _little_ more brandy, shouldn’t she? Maybe more than a little?

So that’s what she does.

* * *

Steve passes by after about half an hour and grabs some eggnog. Mostly to be festive. It doesn’t taste quite right. A bit… heavy? On the cream, maybe?

“Needs something,” Thor agrees.

Steve looks around the apartment. The only thing he can think to add that isn’t more eggnog would be… “Rum?”

Thor looks intrigued.

They add rum.

* * *

Clint catches Kate by the arm. “They refilled the eggnog,” he whispers. “Want to add something different this time?”

“ _Schnapps,_ ” she whispers back. “Peppermint schnapps.”

“Festive! I like it!” He heads to the drinks table, only to be pulled back by Kate, who shakes her head and opens her purse just enough so he can see the top of a large bottle. Beside that one are others, kept from clinking against one another by bundled-up scarves and winter caps. Now he knows where she got the full bottle of brandy from. His grin widens. “Awesome.”

* * *

The recipe has changed again, Sharon thinks. Steve must have tried to improve it. But now a sip means she’s got peppermint coming out of her ears. It has to be tempered by something.

She can only take so much cream. They’re out of the eggnog mix (it’s surprisingly popular!), so she adds some bourbon.

* * *

Bobbi takes some eggnog. She takes a sip, and lets it sit on her tongue.

“How is it?” Natasha asks. “I think someone might have spiked it.”

Bobbi swallows. “More than one person.” She takes another sip. “Looks like everyone’s getting in on it.”

Natasha takes her cup and takes a sip herself. “Huh.”

“Everyone’s getting in on it but _us,_ ” Bobbi finishes. She grabs Natasha’s hand and pulls her to the drinks table. “And that’s unacceptable.”

* * *

Thor kicks back his eggnog in two swallows and nods appreciatively. “Good. It’s coming along.”

“We’ve been adding stuff,” Kate confides. She had adopted an interactive method with her and Clint’s scientific experiment, and there had been quite a bit of experimenting. As such, her voice is louder than it ought to be.

“Very good,” Thor commends her. “Steve added stuff, too.”

“Us, too,” Bobbi says, pulling Natasha closer.

They all look at each other for a moment, wondering if they ought to be concerned.

Kate brightens and tosses the concern away. “Want to add more?”

* * *

The eggnog definitely tastes different, Sharon thinks. And there’s a pleasant burn at the back of her throat. She might have added too much brandy.

She takes another sip. Not bad, though.

* * *

The party is a success. Sharon and Steve see off the last of their guests around three in the morning.

Once the door is closed, Sharon leans heavily against Steve. “That went well,” she manages. Her eyes are heavy. Her tongue won’t work right, and it takes an effort to make the words come out of her face-hole. She’s a little too happy with everything.

Steve holds her for a second, then bends and scoops her up in his arms. “You might have had too much to drink,” he says, sounding amused. “Let’s get you to bed and get you some water.”

“I just had eggnog,” she argues. “The special one.”

Steve makes a face as he heads to the bedroom. “How much did you have?”

She frowns. Frowns deeper. Frowns deeper. She can’t remember and ends up groaning in answer. Groaning is easier than doing words.

Steve decides not to mention he and Thor had spiked the eggnog. He hadn’t thought he’d put so much in, but alcohol affected her more than it did either him or Thor. “I’ll clean up.”

She wraps her arms around him, her grip tight despite her tiredness. “Tomorrow. Now bed with me.” That hadn’t sounded right, but she can’t remember what she’d meant to say.

He sets her down on the bed. “Water for you first.” She loosens her grip, and he slips away and heads to the kitchen. He returns quickly, and she drinks the water before lying down.

“Are we cool now?” Sharon asks, sounding almost hopeful. “Like, hip? Party-able?”

Steve sits on the bed and kicks his shoes off. “Of course we’re cool. In what world are we not cool?”

Sharon’s face falls to the side as she stares at him. “No one who says that is cool.”

“You’ll have to be cool enough for the two of us, then.” He turns and pulls her closer, sighing in her neck.

She nuzzles his temple with her cheek. She pauses. “I have a confession. The spiked eggnog? I added extra spike. Not right away, but I did. It tasted weird so I added brandy.”

He grins. “So did I,” he confesses. He curls some of her hair around his finger. “I think we were the only ones, though. I didn’t see anyone else do it.”

Sharon laughs. “We spiked our own eggnog at our own party. We’re _so_ cool.”

“At least we were the only ones who spiked it,” he says cheerfully. She’s already asleep, though. He grins. She might have a low alcohol tolerance, but he loves her to death and back.


End file.
